The Mentally Unstable  Part One
by gmf22
Summary: Loosely based upon the novel/movie of Shutter Island. It depicts the 'real' Teddy, now locked away once more within the mental institution and focuses on his mental torment concerning his past relationship with Dolores, how it brought him to this point.


PART ONE.

The rope that held him strained as he desperately struggled to avoid the stare of the two men peering down at him. A single naked bulb hung from the damp ceiling, apart from which, the room was entirely bare and dark. No window, no sound escaped from the world just outside, he was alone in an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people within a cell barely large enough to fit the three of them inside. Yet, this was not what aggravated him, this nor the masses of drugs and needles that had been thrust deep into his flesh when he first entered this godforsaken place. It was her. She who had bewitched him body and soul, she whose gaze lingered just beneath his eyelids. The piercing blue pools that had captivated him at their first meeting, those piercing blue pools that had haunted him since their last. Just for a moment he surrendered to the demands of sleep and there she was, the horror of the past few weeks began again.

The pavements gleamed as the soft moonlight reflected off the pools of rainwater that had encapsulated them. It was autumn and the recent downfall had chased all into their homes leaving the small town rather empty that evening. His shirt clung to his skin as he resisted the waves of rain that hammered against his entire body as he advanced further up the hill. She was close, the sweet smell of her entwined within the sharp breeze as he inhaled deeply. In the distance, faint beams of light shone through the darkness and the lonely café was in sight, his journey was almost over. The fierce drum of his heart filled his ears and rippled through his body as her faint silhouette came into view. She was there, he knew she would be. A single figure danced about the room, a broom in one hand and her phone within the other. She was laughing. At the sound of her sweet laughter his hands clenched into fists and his eyes narrowed, the memories were returning.

The pain was emerging, he could feel it beginning to consume him once more. No, he must concentrate at the situation in hand. With a single, swift action he threw open the door. A strong gust of wind entered, the various napkins and flyers that lay upon the nearby table blew onto the floor, the broom fell from her hand and she stood motionless in front of him. She was more beautiful than he remembered, a stray strand of auburn hair had come loose and caressed her cheek, her eyes glistened in the light, fixed upon him. Under her confused expression the sharp pain within his heart flourished.

"Dolores are you ready to leave?" From the shadows a stranger emerged, he drew close to Kate and placed a protective arm around her waist, she didn't respond but remained still. Without a word, he continued to stare at the couple not daring to blink should they suddenly disappear. Should she disappear. The cool of the knife felt soothing against his burning skin as he drew it from his pocket. It was getting worse, the pain was spreading quickly as all senses became filled with her. Her smell, her beauty, her laugh was consuming him. His sights fixed upon her,he backed away towards the door and held the blade to his wrists. Within seconds it was done. Blood poured to the floor, as did the pain he had been carrying those past two years. For the first time he felt liberated, her screams faded into blissful silence. All went black.

Following a flash of blinding light he returned reluctantly to reality. Beneath the crimson stained bandages his wounds burned under the weight of his head which must have collapsed upon them at some point in exhaustion. The two men were now gone and he was alone within his dark cell with the exception of a thin stream of light that came from the distant wall. To his left lay a steel tray that had been tossed below the bolted door, a few slices of stale bread, a substance that looked like it could have been some form of vegetable originally, a glass of water. He devoured it gratefully and returned to the single bed that he must have been laid upon at some point the prior evening. Upon his arms the red marks from the coarse rope that had bound him to the chair could still be seen so he supposed he couldn't have been unconscious for that long a period of time.

His clothing had changed, a noticeably stained shirt that hung limply off his shoulders betrayed the nature of the establishment he had come to find himself trapped within. The asylums badge was pinned to the top left of the garment in addition to the words stamped across the middle, 'inmate.' To his surprise any trace of fear, anger, resentment that he may have previously possessed was now gone, all that captivated his thoughts was the desire, the need to escape. Running his fingers over the top of his head the hair was now much shorter, barely longer than an inch. How could one self harm with hair, he thought to himself, potentially it was just enforced for practically he mused. His fingernails themselves had been filed to short stubs and his former clothes had been removed. The walls that surrounded him were a dull grey, he ran his fingers across every fraction of them in the hope his fingernails would come across some groove or hole within them. Upon them he did discover faded etchings, masses of them cataloguing what must have been thousands of days, however, they ended abruptly with a single deep blow to the wall with what he could only guess was caused by some from of knife or bullet, pierced deep within. Scratching at the surface with his index finger he managed to dislodge some of the rubble that lined the single crevice in the wall to find the small crack **'**went deeper**'** than he first supposed.

Breaking the silence a sharp click came from the door and a pair of eyes came into view. To whom they belonged he didn't know neither did he care, he assumed a member of staff, some superior psychologist there to take just one stare and then write a long report depicting his blatant insanity, his incompetence to live without the so called, care of the asylum's staff. Yet, he refused to look at the psychologist, he now sat upon the bed once more his posture rigid with his eyes pinned to the floor, he couldn't help but grin as the psychologists vexed expression, his pen tapped rhythmically on his jotter but no words came. Eventually, following muffled tones the door opened and the previously anonymous psychologist stepped forward with a look in his eye of pure determination, this subject would crack, just as all the rest did. A guard drew forth a trolley decorated with a clean white cloth upon which lay various tools, torturous tools in his opinion. Nonetheless, his stance did not falter and his gaze returned to the floor.

"Got ourselves another stubborn one then?" The guard inquired, delicately handling each tool in turn before returning back to their original place, a ploy to enhance fear no doubt. With a crooked smile the psychologist selected some form of narrow, level-sided bat. Pacing forward with ease the Psychologist dealt his first blow to the back of the subjects head. He frowned as the victim did not flinch, following the blow he frowned slightly but his silence remained consistent. Another blow was given with the same response. To the new subject of the psychologist this physical pain was blissful, it seemed the psychologist was unaware despite his senior status of how slight the pain of a single blow was as opposed to the hole that was gauged within his heart and now festered with each passing day. In fact, the pain was somewhat soothing, following the blow sharp vibrations followed, creeping down his spine and then, slowly attenuating.

"Forgive me for questioning your methods sir, doctor, whatever you are but surely it is counter-productive to inflict pain upon someone for answers when that person has been placed within this facility for engaging in inflicting pain upon themselves originally? That person shall only relish each moment."

Another blow followed.

There she was again. It was winter and her slight figure was concealed under a mass of coats, scarves and gloves. He couldn't help but laugh as Dolores drew towards him, her usual graceful charm lost as she plodded through the snow with great difficulty.

"You could give me a hand y'know."

"No, I'd much rather watch you struggle, it's rather entertaining!" Despite her apparent frown he noticed the crook of her mouth rise into a half smile and she continued. However, once the snow finally conquered her desperate attempts to walk through it he grasped her tight before she plummeted towards the floor. The peaceful night was suddenly disrupted by a unison of blasts, glancing upwards he followed her gaze up towards the sky now alight with the the simultaneous launch of a thousand and one fireworks, the deep reds and golds dancing between the stars reflected upon her face. She smiled, not at the sky but at him, he felt his cheeks turn warm and she laughed at his abashed reaction and cupped his face in the palm of her hands, gently stroking his reddened cheek with the tip of her finger. At her touch, his entire being was ablaze.

"Happy New Year Teddy."

Under the light of the stars and fireworks, his skin still writhing with pleasure from her touch, he saw her lying blissful and inert beside him nestled within her many items of clothing, alone together in a field concealed by a blanket of snow. At that exact moment he knew for the first time, he loved her.

*A = Anonymous - Has no name yet!


End file.
